Burdened With Glorious Purpose
by L8trg8tr
Summary: When storming the Dark Aster goes wrong for the team, Peter's mouth gets away from him and the Terran inadvertently propositions Ronan the Accuser. Much to the Terran's surprise, the Kree accepts.
1. Chapter 1:Paths Not Taken

Chapter 1: Paths Not Taken

* * *

 _Well, at least I'm getting killed by someone who's hot._ Peter Quill thinks inanely, gripping feebly at Ronan's wrist, the Kree's large hand wrapped around his throat and rapidly cutting off Peter's oxygen supply. _Still, would have preferred to have been ridden into the great beyond by an energetic blond. Or a brunette- a brunette would have been fine, too._

Ronan's hand disappears abruptly and Peter hits the floor, body instinctively sucking in air as fast as possible and nearly choking in the process. Peter is a coughing, wheezing mess by the time he gets his breath back and ultimately can only roll onto his back at Ronan's feet, panting for air.

"A blond or brunette what?" Ronan's voice takes Peter by surprise but not nearly as much as the question itself since the Terran had been sure he hadn't actually voiced the thought. "And why would it ride you? Where would you be going?"

Apparently oxygen deprivation is more tongue loosening than Peter has ever considered, though its not like his mouth hasn't run away with him before under less dire circumstances.

"And what does my temperature have to do with this ride of yours?"

This has got to be one of the weirdest conversations in the history of weird conversations but, then again, its been a strange couple of days all things considered so Peter just blinks a bit and wonders if the universe is fucking with him one last time as he answers the Kree's oddly innocent question.

"Well, you're really attractive, dude, but if I'm going to meet my maker I had hoped it would be in bed with some, uh, enthusiastic company if you know what I'm saying?"

Ronan simply stares, a line of confusion appearing between his eyes and anger lines appearing around his mouth. Peter holds up a hand to stall the impending argument and sits up slowly, keeping his hands visible at all times. Peter has Ronan's attention and if he can keep it maybe they can still save the day and prevent Xandar from being wiped out of existence.

"When I'm having sex, I have a preference for girls with blond or brunette hair." Peter says as plainly as possible in as neutral a tone as he can manage. "When I contemplate the manner of my death, if given the choice, I would like to die as a very fine someone rides my cock."

There- plain as can be. To be any more so, Peter would need visual aides.

Ronan's eyes are large, his mouth slack, and Peter allows himself to feel amused and a little honored because he's betting very few people ever get to see the Accuser so caught off guard.

"Sex?" The Kree questions and its clear he's hazarding a guess at what the Terran is talking about.

It's Peter's turn to stare and he feels like his eyes might fall out of his head because a) who doesn't know about sex and, b) holy shit he's going to need visual aides!

"Or masturbation, but yeah, sex." Peter says, a bit dazed by the bizarreness of it all. "Making love. Fucking. Having relations. Pick a euphemism. Haven't you ever had an orgasm?"

Ronan blushes, his cheeks flushing dark blue under his war paint, and Peter can barely keep himself from laughing. Or cooing. Both options would be equally damning right now even if, Accuser or not, the sight is damn adorable, especially when Ronan becomes even more visibly flustered as he speaks.

"I am The Supreme Accuser, son of one of the most noble Kree bloodline! It is my task to uphold the ancient laws of my people - not sire half-breeds across the universe!"

 _Wow, Ronan's a virgin; totally didn't see that one coming._ Peter nods understandingly and magnanimously refrains from pointing out all the flaws in Ronan's arguments. Regardless, the Kree's sputtering has given Peter an idea, a terrible, wonderful, absolutely insane idea, and Peter is all about working an angle that will benefit him. "Ok, I see what you're saying, don't want to be an intergalactic baby daddy, I feel you. So no women. Have you considered a male lover instead?"

* * *

Notes:

So, this was originally written to fill a kink meme request on live journal. If this is the first time you're hearing about the Guardian Kink meme, you're really missing out no matter if you are an author searching for a story idea or a reader looking to fill a particular story need.

If you like this story (or to be fair, hate it) leave a comment in the review section! I read each and every one and all are greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2: Playing With Fire

Chapter 2: Playing With Fire

On a universal scale, the whole binary idea of gender doesn't work and Peter is perfectly aware of this though he's betting Ronan isn't. 'Male-ish' would probably be the most accurate term but Kree culture, as far as Peter understands, has similar Terran concepts about what constitutes male and female in a species and what the procreating limitations about each are. It had taken Peter a while to get his head around the idea that a male of a species did not in fact always have a penis or nearest equivalent.

"A what?" Ronan freezes and goggles at Peter while the Terran uses every last shred of willpower he possesses to maintain a placid expression.

"A male lover." Peter repeats mildly then grins. "Pregnancy issue is handled. No one'll bat an eye at one more guy walking around. You get someone to keep you company and cuddle with in the downtime."

"Cuddle?" And, again, Ronan uses the same baffled tone as he had before, as if any kind of physical intimacy- innocent or not- is so foreign to him that he literally has no frame of reference for dealing with it. It's... Awful, really, and Peter can't help the rush of pity that wells up in response because as shitty as his childhood had been he knows how to still enjoy a physical connection with another being.

"Yeah, man, a cuddle. A hug? An embrace to bestow comfort when you've had a shit day?" Peter prompts, suddenly feeling incredibly sad. "What do you do for stress relief?"

Ronan seems to straighten up and practically preens. "I seek retribution for the crimes against the Kree empire."

Of course he does.

"Aaaaand we're back to killing and slaughter." Peter thunks his head against the floor and rubs at the bridge of his nose. "Look, Ronan, maybe its time you try something new...and less... murder-y to relax. Getting your rocks off, man? Best stress reliever in the universe. That or a cuddle. We could give it a try right now- you can always go back to wasting planets another day."

Peter flashes him his best smile and doesn't think he does too bad a job considering he's still sprawled on the floor at the Accuser's feet. Ronan's face is impassive but the Kree is staring at him and, by the sheer intensity he's using to look at the Terran, Peter knows that the other is interested, the idea starting to grow. But Peter needs it to grow faster- much faster- so he stretches a bit, putting a little wiggle in his hips and rolls his shoulders to emphasize the musculature as he sits up, turns and focuses on Ronan.

Peter is naive about many things but if there is one thing he's learned it is that everyone regardless of species, culture, and planet likes to feel important. To feel wanted, needed? That kind of attention is a heady thing, a power like no other and from experience, Peter knows that his ability to make someone else feel uniquely special and appreciated will get him closer to sex than any other trick. The Terran ignores everything else and pays attention to the Kree as if the larger male is the most important being in the universe.

"So, speaking from a personal stand point on stress relief, I'd recommend sex." Peter laughs and even to his ears it sounds false, brittle. The only thing keeping him upright is adrenaline and once that runs dry he's gonna drop so, really, Ronan needs to hurry the fuck up and be reasonable if he wants to get any before exhaustion claims Peter completely. "Sleeping with a guy can be just as good as sleeping with a girl- which you haven't done yet so never mind you big romantic you. Anyway! Males! If you're with someone who knows what they're doing, you'll feel like a god."

Peter nods sagely, trying to be the picture of galactic sex guru wisdom, and waits, mentally begging Ronan to _please_ take the bait.

"And you," Ronan flushes again, tongue darting out to wet his lips as his two-handed grip on his hammer tightens to the point that the larger male's knuckles bleach out. "You are such a person?"

Peter nods solemnly. "I am. I can also help you find someone else if I'm not attractive enough. There's this place in the next quadrant over that will do anything you want. We can head over there now and I can walk you through the menu. I'll even pay for the first ride and that, sir, is not a cheap offer. What do you say?"

The down side to simply talking is that it doesn't produce a whole lot of adrenaline and Peter rubs at his face, grimacing at the feel of grit and sweat on his skin. It is distinctly a very not-sexy feeling. He needs a shower in the worst way- they probably all do come to think of it- and the Terran has to immediately suppress the burning sensation behind his eyes, has to fight not to look at Drax still sprawled on the floor somewhere to Peter's right and ignore the plaintive wail in the back of his mind asking _Why isn't he moving?!_

"I do not know if I could lie with a male." Ronan crouches down in right front of him, startling Peter by the abrupt closure of the distance separating them. The admission is equally as surprising and intimate considering their adversarial relationship with one another, and Peter nods in acknowledgement of that fact. Sexuality is a sensitive subject and the Terran is very aware that he is trying to steer the Kree down a path that sounds like it's pretty far afield from the other male's cultural norms.

Peter gets it; it's an issue Peter has had to deal with himself, after all.

"There's an easy way to test that, if you want." Peter offers, well aware that in the next second everything he's worked for could blow up in his face. He bites his lip, then licks over the surface to sooth the resulting discomfort, mentally frowning at the dry and chapped texture. But Ronan's eyes follow the movement hungrily, tracking it as a predator would track prey, expression screaming his unvoiced want.

Peter spares a wistful thought that this situation would be so much more arousing if the fate of a planet and its people weren't on the line.

The Accuser nods and Peter makes a point of telling Ronan exactly what he's going to do before actually pressing his lips against the Kree's. Peter is acutely aware of the fact that Ronan physically is fully capable of turning Peter into paste with no effort. The hair on the Terran's body stands on end as the Infinity Stone powered _demon_ hammer comes to rest inches away from his fragile Terran body.

The Terran knows that he could make a grab for it, maybe even wrestle it away for a few minutes, but its not like there're anywhere Peter could go with it to escape Ronan. Even tossing the damn thing outside isn't an option since the whole point of this little suicide mission was to prevent the stone from reaching the planet! No; seducing Ronan, as ludicrous as it sounds, is Xandar's best option right now so Peter proceeds with as much caution as possible.

The kiss is a bit awkward at first because Ronan is stiff as a board and Peter's feeling a bit shy about it all now- he's dusty and dirty and really should have brushed his teeth before trying to save the galaxy, especially if sex would be the deciding factor, and _God_ , why is he thinking about all of this right now?! The pressure that this is a make or break moment doesn't help, neither does the sound of gunfire strafing the shields in the background. But just when Peter's about to inwardly say fuck it and take his chances by going for the hammer, Ronan responds and the kiss rapidly goes from something awkward and innocent to take-me-now passionate. Ronan is making little needy sounds, sounds echoed by Peter and suddenly Ronan's large hand is pawing at Peter's clothing, digging until skin touches skin and whoa Peter needs to stop this before the Kree strips him bare!

Peter pulls away with a gasp and pins Ronan's wandering hand between his paler, smaller two. They're both panting, both flushed, and the Kree makes a noise that is perilously close to a whine as Peter fights to maintain the distance between them.

"So that's a yes." Peter says with a breathless laugh, ducking Ronan's clumsy attempt to recapture his lips. The frowning Kree makes an irritated noise, breaks Peter's hold on his hand and palms the back of the Terran's neck to drag him forward for another kiss.

"Ronan," Peter is panting when he manages to free his mouth again. The Kree begins kissing down Peter's jaw instead, occasionally licking at the Terran's skin tentatively and earning an appreciative sound. The Kree attacks the spot again, experimenting with different pressures and the smaller male's brain disconnects temporarily as his pants become noticeably tighter. Eventually though Peter does remember that there are factors that need to be dealt with before they can do the dirty. "Ronan, we have things to deal with before we get naked."

The 'naked' comment earns a shudder from the Kree leaning against him, the force of which nearly knocks the smaller male over. Peter takes hold of Ronan's hand, cradling it between his own pair near his mouth and lets his tongue dart out to trail over Ronan's fingertips anytime the desire in those purple eyes starts to flag.

"We need to get out of here, away from Xandar because getting shot during sex is not cool. Once we're safe, you and I are going to find a bedroom and have some private time together." Ronan leans in for another kiss and Peter willingly gives it to him, pulling away before it can become too heated despite Ronan getting visibly annoyed."No. Safety first, sweetie, then the clothes come off."

The Kree pulls back and side-eyes Peter silently.

"You are trying to thwart my conquest." Ronan asserts, pulling away completely from the Terran and standing up so that he can glare down. Peter can only watch as suspicion chases away the arousal he's worked so hard to build up and wants to cry in frustration. "This is a trick! You seek to stall for time!"

He sounds so outraged, so hurt, that even though he is fully intending to fuck the Kree, Peter feels genuinely guilty about his ploy. It lasts until the Terran remembers the planet and all its inhabitants facing certain death below the Dark Aster and then Peter mentally slaps himself for his own stupidity.

"No, baby, no! I just want to celebrate with you." Peter waves dismissively at the giant hole Rocket's little cannon blew in the front of the ship. It's both amazing and distressing that Ronan didn't go down after taking a direct hit, had merely grunted as the dust settled before proceeding to wipe the floor with them all. Drax had been first and Gamora had been next followed by Groot -Peter hasn't seen either since Ronan tossed them behind some rubble- and then Peter had had the pleasure of being the sole recipient of the Kree's attention until the Terran had started babbling. Peter flounders, inwardly scrambling for something to say until his eyes land on Ronan's waist and a new idea forms.

Using his mouth has always gotten Peter out of trouble before, let's see if it can do it one more time.


	3. Chapter 3: Courage Does Not Always Roar

Chapter 3: Courage Does Not Always Roar

* * *

Peter clears his throat and coughs as he inhales more of the dust sifting through the air. "All of Xandar is shitting their pants because of you. You've won so let's fuck. Are you an exhibitionist? Wanna screw me on Nova Prime's desk and give her a show? We can do that but lets go find a private place so we can practice first. Xandar will still be right where you left it and the Nova Corps will still be in pieces."

As he talks, Peter rises to his knees and walks his fingers slowly up Ronan's leg, under the hem of the skirt thing, trailing his nails along the stiff fabric covering the larger male's thigh teasingly. Peter feels ridiculous -and desperate- but he continues anyway, trying to look as sexy as possible as he holds the Kree's gaze. The Terran plasters himself against one long leg and hangs on tightly as his fingers brush the seam of rough material at the apex of Ronan's legs, expecting the other to be startled and unwilling to be kicked. The Kree jumps in surprise but the anger that flashes across his face quickly bleeds away as Peter gives up being subtle and becomes more and more aggressive. The material is tight with very little give but Peter's fingers stroke and fondle Ronan's cock until it swells to full size and the Kree is practically humping Peter's hand.

Peter feels quite proud of the near strangled sound Ronan makes in response when he pulls his hand away.

"Do you know what a blow job is?" The Terran asks, making his voice low and husky. He's been told its quite the turn on by several ladies and hopes it will have the same panty dropping effect on Ronan. "It's not as good as real intercourse but a very nice place to start for beginners."

Peter starts tracing random patters against the Kree's inner thigh and rises up to mouth at the limp fingers within reach. He latches onto one and draws it into his mouth, circling it with his tongue until Ronan's chest is heaving, his eyes wild as he stares down at Peter. The Terran pulls free with a deliberately slow caress of his tongue. "Feel good? It's a lot like that, just here instead."

Peter palms Ronan's erection pointedly and gives it a squeeze before withdrawing.

The hand in his hair is not altogether unexpected but the harshness of it as he's hauled to his feet is. Peter makes a pained noise but it's quickly swallowed by Ronan as the Kree crushes his mouth to the Terran's and Peter has to yield or risk cutting his lips on Ronan's teeth. Peter thrusts his tongue past the other's lips, licking, exploring, inviting, and the hand leaves his hair to circle around his back, crushing him against the larger male. The Terran pulls back with a nip to the Kree's lower lip but Ronan chases after him, bending from the waist to do it and inadvertently causing Peter to stumble when the other shifts to keep his feet. This leads to more stumbling as the pair try not to trip over each other's feet and maintain their balance while still kissing because Ronan refuses to allow Peter to separate. It's funny and Peter is laughing through his nose before he can help it, finally managing to get his feet under him only to find that they have swapped places in stance with one another. Ronan pulls back a bit when he feels Peter smile, flashes a pleased grin of his own and then makes the Terran moan by attacking the slim column of Peter's throat.

Everything is going well so of course that's when things have to get complicated.

"Bedroom!" Peter demands suddenly, panting and pushing at Ronan's shoulders to get the bigger male to walk. It's like trying to move a blue, living mountain so the Kree doesn't budge an inch which is just insulting. "Or a plush carpet! Or a clean couch! I'm not picky but we're not fucking on this floor!"

Ronan responds by hooking an arm under Peter's bottom and lifting the Terran up as if he weighs nothing at all. It startles a yip out of Peter who instinctively wraps his legs and arms around the Kree to keep from falling.

"This is better." The Accuser states, hefting Peter experimentally when the Terran loosens his tight hold and places his smaller hands on Ronan's broad shoulders. The new position enables Peter to look down at the other and after a confused moment, the Terran smiles in a predatory fashion.

"It is." Peter purrs as he cups Ronan's jaw and places a light kiss on the other's lips. His thumbs tease over the black war paint decorating the Kree's face, expecting the substance to be wet and smear but instead its dry and stiff, adhering to Ronan's skin as if its been there all the Kree's life. For all Peter knows, that may just be the case and he brings his attention back to the matter at hand- bedding the Kree in his arms. "I take it you have a place in mind?"

The Kree tilts his head up slightly, an implicit request because they both know Ronan is too proud to ever beg. Peter has never been one to enjoy groveling and feels a pang of familiar sadness. No other species seems to be as tactile as Terrans and its something that Peter had had to figure out after he was abducted. Once he was old enough, however, Yondu had ensured that Peter had had all the physical companionship he could handle.

The Terran mentally shoves the thought away and busies himself by nibbling on a dark blue lip until Ronan's breathing speeds up.

No one should have to beg for a kiss or a hug or a cuddle and Peter showers as much tactile comfort as he can on the Kree.

"Make sure the ship doesn't crash first, okay?" Peter will be Ronan's first and quite possibly last lover, and the Terran wants to make sure that the experience is everything love making is supposed to be- or at least can be given the circumstances- but that doesn't mean he has any desire to be in the middle of a fiery crash while doing so. Peter also knows that once he leaves this room with Ronan, he has essentially signed his own death warrant but, in his peripheral vision he can see Drax starting to stir, has seen flashes of green skin and creeping masses of branches moving amongst the debris in the room. Distracting Ronan may cost Peter his life but it also could buy his team- the people he owes for willingly following him into such an impossible situation- the precious time they need to get to safety.

It's a gamble but its one worth taking if he can save everyone.

Eyebrows arched, Peter hooks his ankles behind the Kree's back and links his hands behind Ronan's head as the Kree walks to a panel on the wall to type in a command. The low rumbling hum of the engine quiets slightly and Peter's inner ear tells him that the ship has stopped its descent. Ronan types another command into the keyboard and, arching an eyebrow of his own, looks at Peter expectantly.

The Terran rolls his eyes but smiles and asks in a tone that clearly implies he knows the other is waiting for acknowledgement over an achievement of some sort. "What did you do?"

"I have increased the shields so that we will not be shot during our pleasure taking." Ronan states in a neutral tone. He could almost be talking about the weather until he smiles shyly up at Peter, ruining the effect. "Since being shot would be 'un-cool.'"

The Terran laughs at having his own words thrown back at him, claims Ronan's mouth again and then there's no more talking, just lips and tongues and hands and moans as they move away from the Command Center. The Accuser's gait is a bit unsteady as they move deeper into the _Dark Aster'_ s interior and Peter's back bumps into a wall more than once but eventually they end up in a room with an immaculately made bed that Peter plans to make as messy as possible.

Unfortunately, before the clothes can come off, the weapons must first since they're both armed to the teeth. Peter's never been one for neatness and his blasters and odds and ends are durable enough to survive being dumped on the floor but treating Ronan's world destroying hammer thing the same way seems like a Very Bad Idea. The issue is solved, however, by a convenient shelf situated within grabbing distance of the bed. Setting the Terran down, Ronan places his hammer carefully on it and Peter does the same with his pair of blasters, a knife or two (or four), a single pistol, a stun gun and a small smaller male shrugs as Ronan stares at the collection from Peter's pockets.

"What? We can't all be mighty Kree warriors." Peter bites the inside of his cheek and valiantly refrains from commenting when, seconds later, the larger male pulls two wickedly curved blades from his boots to add to the pile.

There's an awkward moment after that where they both are hesitant to initiate physical contact now that they're more clear headed. But then Peter thinks, _Fuck it_ , and pounces on Ronan, practically climbing up the startled Kree and tugging at the stupid cowl thing until it gives and Ronan's bald head gleams from the rooms's recessed lights. To his credit, the larger male doesn't hurl Peter away; instead Ronan accepts the squirming Terran's additional weight like a champion, wraps his arms around Peter's hips and shifts them both so the Kree can sit on the bed with Peter straddling his lap while the smaller male attacks the heavy armor fastenings.

"How'd you even get in this thing?" Peter exclaims, rising up on his knees and pulling at the breast plate. "Dunk yourself in lube then squeeze in?"

Infuriatingly, even though he's using all his upper body strength, the damn thing doesn't budge an inch. Neither does the Kree wearing it for that matter. Peter gives another heave then admits defeat for the time being as he folds his arms and stares at the garment intently looking for a seam he can exploit. Ronan watches him curiously for a moment then silently reaches up to clasp something behind his neck and Peter hears the muffled sound of metal against metal. The carapace immediately loosens, slitting up the sides so that when Ronan abruptly rolls them over, all the Kree has to do to remove his armor is just pull it over his head.

"Oh, that is **so** not fair!" Peter complains indignantly to the Kree smirking above him even as the Terran toes off his own boots and his hands start pulling at Ronan's pants. "Wait, so you just let me-mphf!"

The Kree pulls back from the sudden kiss enough to put his forehead against Peter's and stare into the Terran's green eyes. "You talk incessantly. Is it necessary for our impending union or may we resume kissing instead?"

"Kisses're good." Peter agrees after a moment of fighting with himself to not smile. "I like kisses."

"Excellent." Ronan straightens up enough to remove his undershirt and let it fall to the floor before returning to hold himself above Peter's smaller frame. "I enjoy kisses as well and would like to kiss you other places. And touch you. And taste you."

And hello- that certainly brings to mind all sorts of interpretations that make Peter shudder and squirm as he fumbles with suddenly clumsy fingers at his own clothing. If this continues, Ronan's inadvertent brand of blunt sexy cuteness is going to make Peter embarrass himself horribly.

"I'm ok with touching, too, but you're gonna need to define 'taste.'" Peter huffs as he fights to shimmy out of his tight pants and not kick the Kree in the groin since Ronan keeps ducking in and stealing kisses at odd moments now that the Terran is preoccupied. It's almost like Ronan cannot help butempty touch whatever skin the Terran reveals and Peter blushes under the attention, feeling his own skin hunger flare. "I grew up on a ship where being eaten was a very real threat."

* * *

Notes: Does anyone know what House Ronan is from? I've been poking around trying to find any info on Ronan's family (names of mother and father, manner of their death, his family name, why his House has an issue with House Fiyero, the Kree culture and language- you know, small stuff) and have come up largely empty. As such, there will be a lot of world building later on and if anyone has any info, dear God, please share! If anyone is linguistically inclined, I'm also creating a Kree dialect and if you have an idea for a word/concept and want to share, please do so! Thank you all for reading!


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